


Filling me up with the shivers and quivers

by Basingstoke



Series: Time and Privacy [3]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Queer Themes, Sex Toys, an old tent by the side of the road
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24668881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basingstoke/pseuds/Basingstoke
Summary: Patrick remembers he owns a tent.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Time and Privacy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1456495
Comments: 44
Kudos: 190





	Filling me up with the shivers and quivers

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Whetherwoman for beta!

"Oh my god, I'm an idiot," Patrick shouts out, making David drop the broom. 

"Oh my god, what?" David says. He bends over to retrieve the broom. Patrick rushes over and kisses him as he straightens up. "What?" David asks, starting to smile. 

"Finish closing the store and I'll be right back to pick you up. I just realized--I'll be right back, okay?" 

"Okay," David says, and Patrick is running out to his car and taking off. 

_He owns a tent._ It's been in his car the entire time, rolled up in the trunk. He just needs a sleeping bag, some extra blankets, a change of clothes...he makes a list in his head as he speeds home. 

He bursts through the door and runs up the stairs to toss things into his backpack. He sees Ray when he's running back down the stairs. 

"Patrick! Spending the evening with David, I see." 

He beams. "It's going really, really well." 

"It's good to see you so happy! Goodnight," Ray says. Patrick claps him on the shoulder before running back out to the car. 

He's back inside ten minutes. Schitt's Creek isn't very big. David is locking the front door so Patrick doesn't even shut off the engine, just turns on the overhead light so David can get in; David does, with a delighted smile on his face. "What did you figure out that sent you running out of here so fast?" David asks. 

Patrick leans over the gear shift and kisses him. "I've had a tent in the back of my car this entire time," he says. "Portable privacy whenever we want it." 

He expects excitement. He doesn't get it. "Oh!" David says insincerely.

"No? What's the problem?" 

"Camping sounds fun," David says, his voice growing more false with every word. "Being outside! With moths and other bugs!"

Patrick sags. "I'm sorry. I thought I really had something there." 

David closes his eyes and inhales. "I absolutely want to be alone in an opaque space with you. I just. I'm not an outside person, I'm an inside person. There are a lot of...animals in the countryside. And sounds. And it gets very dark." 

Patrick takes his hand. "I get it. I was terrified driving in Toronto. Seriously, I was," he says, seeing the look on David's face. "I thought I was going to die. We were going 130 in bumper to bumper traffic and I was afraid to even blink." 

"That does make me feel better, thank you," David says softly. 

Patrick looks at their joined hands. "I have a suggestion that might be trashy." 

"I only have a problem with a suggestion involving actual trash," David says. 

"Have sex in the tent, sleep at my place?" 

David looks at the ceiling and, oh god, this is what Alexis calls a face journey. He can see the thoughts passing through David's head one after the other. He's sure one is for mosquitos and one is for cows; David is both taken with and wary of cows, though he is completely neutral on goats. The squint in both eyes, that's for the walk of shame into Patrick's bedroom, he's sure, and the bitten lip is for the idea of having sex tonight. "Yes," David says. "Yes. Let's do this. Do you know where we can go?"

"I have a place in mind," Patrick says. He puts the car in gear and takes David's hand again. 

"Your organized brain is very sexy. I need pajamas and an outfit for tomorrow, plus product, plus, is this a place where we can be loud?" 

"It can be," Patrick says, revising his idea. 

"Then I'll pack the heavy duty vibrator." 

Patrick clears his throat. He feels suddenly very congested. "The ones you brought before weren't heavy-duty?" 

"Strictly beginner grade," David says. He draws his thumb back and forth over Patrick's fingers. "I didn't want to scare you." 

"Oh, this isn't my scared face," Patrick says. He squirms against his seat slightly. 

"Of course, the really good ones need to plug into the wall."

"I have a jump battery in the trunk. It has an outlet, you can plug into it." 

"Okay." 

"It's fully charged. I check it every month when I wash my car. You can run a car off it." 

"That's the motel," David says, squeezing his hand. 

It sure is. Good grief. He's never been so distracted by another human being. He pulls in without incident and parks by David's room. 

David strokes his shoulder after he parks the car. "Come in," he says. 

"No, I had better stay here," Patrick says. Plus, he has an idea and needs to text Alexis.

"You're good," David says, openly checking the front of Patrick's trousers. "I like showing you off. It's nice having a healthy relationship."

And how can he resist that? He unbuckles his seat belt and slides out. 

Alexis opens the motel room door before David reaches it with the key. She looks...odd? Oh--she's not wearing any makeup, Patrick realizes. "Occupied! Busy! No boys!" she says, glaring at them both. 

"I'm packing a bag and leaving," David retorts. 

"Mm. I guess, but _no kissing_ ," she says. Patrick tries to look innocent. He tries to look like he has never had waking dreams about the curve of David's mouth. He succeeds, he thinks, because Alexis lets them in. 

David immediately moves to his bed and opens his bag. 

Patrick follows him, and...okay. "Hello, Mrs. Rose," he says. The connecting door is open and Mrs. Rose is seated at the table in David and Alexis's room. He really shouldn't be intimidated. She's just...his boyfriend slash business partner's favorite parent. Okay. He can do this. 

"Good evening, Patrick. I see you and David are departing on another crepuscular excursion." 

Patrick doesn't know what that means. He looks at David. 

"He could blow my back out here if that's what you prefer," David says, digging things out from under his bed. Patrick does know what that means and can't stop the blush rising in his cheeks. 

"David! There's no need to be crude. We support your budding _amour_ ," Mrs. Rose says. 

"Yeah, David, we support you budding your amour," Alexis says with a widening grin.

"Shut up," David says to Alexis. "Hold my bag while I pack tomorrow's clothes," David says to Patrick, which lets him move and be useful. 

Patrick picks up David's bag and follows him. "So," Patrick says, looking into the closet, "where are your clothes?" He'd noticed this last time but it hadn't seemed the right time to ask. 

The closet is packed, but only with items that are clearly Alexis's; there are a lot of filmy floral dresses and a stack of shoes. The only sign of David is in the bottom right corner where a single contraption holds a stack of folded black and white crowned with a pair of high-tops. 

"Elsewhere," David says with a look. Patrick takes the hint and shuts up. David flips through the contraption--okay, so it has seven slots for the seven days of the week like a Filofax, that's neat--and retrieves a full folded outfit. Sweater, undershirt, trousers, underwear, socks. David hovers over the shoes but leaves them in place. 

So, David chooses his wardrobe for the week and puts it in the closet, but the rest of his clothes live Elsewhere. Interesting. He wonders where Elsewhere is and why they can't have sex there. He doesn't ask aloud while Mrs. Rose and Alexis are in the room. He does, however, text Alexis to ask a pertinent question. She texts him back immediately with a flurry of kiss emojis and a showy IRL wink. 

"David? Is that--ah, Patrick," Mr. Rose says. The whole family is looking at him. He wishes he'd worn a better shirt. He's not sure he has a better shirt. "How's the store?" 

"Performing better than projected," Patrick says. Thank God for Mr. Rose. _Him_ , he can talk to. "Once we have a firm local foothold, we're going to introduce online ordering. I think it's better to do that quickly, since so much of our stock is limited in duration and we serve such a wide area." 

"Ah, so you'll have a website and an _Instagram_ and a _Tweeter_ ," Mr. Rose says. Alexis and David both groan. 

"Twitter!" David says. 

"That's what I said!" Mr. Rose protests. 

"Tuh-wit-ter," Alexis enunciates. "And yes, the store has a functional website, I made sure of that. The commerce function is ready to go. The Instagram has been up for weeks. But no Twitter, not yet, because you don't want to get canceled before you get big."

"I will not get canceled!" David protests. 

"You could very easily get canceled," Alexis says. "Like. Very easily." 

"I could not! I'm woke as fuck!" David says. 

"Mm, you're white and saying 'woke', you're already cancelled," Alexis says, eyeballing him. Patrick looks at David in solidarity. 

"Stop looking at me!" David says to both of them. Patrick widens his eyes at him. Alexis tilts her head. 

"I'm sure you do just fine on Tweeter," Mr. Rose says. 

" _Twitter!_ " Alexis and David yell together. 

"Twitter, John," Mrs. Rose says. 

David takes his bag out of Patrick's hand. "Thank you, goodnight, the business is fine, my relationship is fine, I will beat you with your own high heel if you interfere with either. Goodnight!" 

"Goodnight," Patrick echoes. They exit the motel. 

David turns to him. "See? You're so good with my parents." 

"I was terrified," Patrick admits. He leans in for a kiss. 

David kisses him. 

*

Patrick had been planning to take David to Hockley's Field, which was a notorious local makeout spot according to Twyla. Under the revised mandate of noise, he takes David to Mutt Schitt's abandoned barn.

"Alexis tipped me off," he tells David. "She said there's no power and raccoons live in his bed, but if we pitch the tent inside, we can fend off the wildlife."

"This wasn't--you've been talking to my sister behind my back?" 

"Literally behind your back as you were standing there in the room." 

"Betrayal," David breathes, but he takes a look around the barn. Patrick unloads the tent and jump starter and bags. 

"You see why I haven't suggested coming here before," Patrick says. Alexis had told him about the barn a few days ago, actually. They had quickly agreed that David would never. 

"No, yes, this is incredibly creepy. Can I help with that?" 

"Hold this here," Patrick says, and as David holds the top of the tent, Patrick pops the wires open. It stands by itself.

"Oh! Oh, that's cute!" David says. 

"You think so?" 

"It's very on brand for you. It's round and blue and outdoorsy, but in a friendly way. So yes, it's cute," David says. As he speaks, his arms slide over Patrick's shoulders, so he ends in a kiss. 

Patrick kisses back, long and lush and penetrating. “So you're saying I'm cute," Patrick says eventually. 

"So cute." 

"Not manly? Not rugged?" 

"I don't believe in gender like that," David murmurs into his lips. "You're a man if you say you are a man, it isn't for me to judge. And you don't have rough enough hands to be rugged."

Patrick considers that as he kisses David. "You give gender a lot of thought."

"You don't?" 

"Almost never." 

David mouths over Patrick’s jaw and neck. “Can't relate," he whispers. 

"This is the strangest foreplay ever," Patrick whispers back, and David presses Patrick's jaw ceilingward and bites at his throat. 

When Patrick's breath starts coming hard and his clothes feel too tight, he steps back, unbuttoning his shirt. David answers him by carefully lifting his sweater over his head.

They both undress outside the tent, David placing his clothes in his overnight bag. Then Patrick checks the barn for raccoons, bolts the door and latches the shutters, and brings the jump starter into the mouth of the tent. David, meanwhile, has zipped open and arranged the sleeping bag, travel pillow, and an entirely new bag of sex toys. 

“Wow,” Patrick breathes. 

David reclines on the sleeping bag. “Manual, battery operated, and plug-in,” he says, gesturing.

“I mean. Wow.” There’s a different glass dildo, and a gold plug-in vibrator, and soft silicone in more varieties than he can cope with. “Do you go first or do I go first?” 

“You go first unless you want me to demonstrate something.” 

“It seems pretty straightforward. They either go in my butt or on my taint and then I come so hard I see angels."

"Okay," David says, half closing his eyes. "I'm going to need a minute to deal with you talking dirty to me." 

Patrick grins. "That was dirty? I can go dirtier." 

"Oh god. Okay, whisper it in my ear, I'm going to put in a plug and start doing things to you." 

"Doing things to me?" Patrick grins harder, curling on his side to watch David. "I'm in an abandoned barn in the woods and a tall, dark, handsome man is threatening to do things to me," he says experimentally. 

"If you want to role play, we can role play," David says. He's holding something made of silicone. "Hold on to this for a minute, I need to find the ass butter." David drops a kiss on his cheek and sits up. 

"Ass butter," Patrick mutters, but he holds the silicone thing and investigates as David roots through his bag. There's a loop on the end, maybe that's a handle? Except it's bent into a curved right angle and the end is huge. "What the hell is this?" Patrick asks when David finds the tube of goo he's looking for. 

"Mm. This is a very good time. Observe," David says, and he squirts it with goo. He lies on his back and plants his feet to raise his hips off the sleeping bag; then he takes the silicone thing, _hooks the loop over his dick and balls_ , and slides the huge bulge at the end into his butt on an exhale. 

"Holy shit," Patrick says. 

David bites his lip, shimmies his hips a little, and rolls up onto his hip. "So that's for me. And that's just going to sit there while we find out what you like." 

"Fuck," Patrick says. He's suddenly, roaringly, blushing. 

*

Patrick likes everything. The silicone is soft, and the glass is hard, and his mind is buzzing, and so is the thing David is holding behind his balls. 

He's been hard for what seems like hours and he doesn't want to come because this feels too good. He's lying in David's lap, sucking and mouthing at David's two forefingers, tonguing at the silver rings. 

"Breathe, sweetheart, you're holding your breath," David murmurs, kissing his forehead. He bumps the buzzy thing down to the lowest setting and Patrick lets go of David's fingers and sucks in air. 

"Fuck," Patrick gasps out. 

"Mm-hm." 

Patrick tips back his head. "Can we just do this forever?" 

"Eventually the raccoons will gang up and attack us," David says softly. "So, can we try something else new?" 

"Mm-hm." 

"I'd like it if you fucked me."

"Okay. What should I do?" 

"Nothing, baby, you're so hard I could play ring toss with your dick." David turns off the vibrator, leaving Patrick feeling like he's floating. Like he's in an inner tube on the river, two beers in, except the river is vibrating and the inner tube is his own skin. 

He feels drunk. His whole body is ringing like a bell. He pats at David's butt, but David has already taken off the silicone thingy. 

David smiles and strokes his stomach. He rolls a condom down Patrick's dick and swings his leg over Patrick's legs. They barely fit inside the pop-up tent--David's head and the back of his shoulders hit the ceiling, so that the polyester walls flex around them as he moves, answering the movement of David's body over his own. Patrick strokes the outside of David's thighs, feeling the lighter, sleeker hair there. Inside David's thighs, the hairs curl up into wires, thicker and longer, prickly and blunt. David trims down his hair in certain places, Patrick has learned. The hair in those places has a firmer, blunted feel. 

He is stroking his palms up the inside of David's thighs to his abdomen when David settles down onto his prick. "Oh, fuck," David whispers. Patrick can feel himself sliding up into the heat of David's body and sitting snug and embraced inside him.

"Oh, fuck," Patrick echoes, barely breathing out. David's body feels like the clench of a fist without fingers or bone, just grip, holding him and drawing him in. "Fuck, fuck, oh fuck, David, you feel so good. David, oh, you feel so good--" There's no stamina in him, only the hot, clutching rise to a sudden crest. He pushes his hips up and David tips his head back in the same motion, both of them moving together as one. 

He comes sharply and strongly and David gasps as Patrick shoots into him. His thighs shake and so do Patrick's hands. David folds down over him, kissing him, breathing into his mouth. He feels David shoot onto his belly. 

Patrick rumples David's hair with both hands, loving the feel of David's bigger body resting on his. "Fuck," he murmurs. 

David shudders. "Say fuck again," he says. 

"I just fucked you," Patrick says, and David shudders harder. 

"I can feel that in my _spine_ ," David says. 

Patrick can feel David in every tingle of his skin and trickle of sweat. He wraps his arms around David's shoulders, pulling him in. "I just fucked you," Patrick repeats. 

David curls around him, twining into his side and tucking his cheek into Patrick's neck. He circles Patrick's nipple with his thumb. "Five stars, would ride again," David says. 

Patrick kisses David's hair, opening his mouth to taste sticky sweat and the lingering hint of bergamot and chemicals. He'll only get a minute or so before David can't stand being so messy, so he makes the most of it, tasting and inhaling and drinking in the feel of David against his entire body. "I love the way you smell," he murmurs to David. 

David sighs, but he's still smiling. "I've picked that up. I'm still going to try very hard not to smell like this very often." 

"That makes it more of an achievement." He rolls David onto his back and rubs his nose down his neck, continuing down his chest, rubbing the slight sandpaper of his chin against damp hair. 

He ducks into David's armpit and slides his tongue along the soft inside of David's upper arm as David squirms and feigns disgust, only relenting when David makes a genuine noise of discomfort. Then it's time to let him go.

He hates letting David go. 

They clean up, get dressed, fold up the tent and stow everything in the car. Patrick leans against the trunk for a moment and inhales the sweet night air. When he opens his eyes, David is standing in front of him, just looking at him. David's hands settle on his shoulders and they smile at each other like goofs. 

*

David gets the first shower at Patrick's place, of course. Patrick lounges on the bed and reads up on gender and sexual orientation. 

He has, actually, been thinking about the subject a lot, but he wants to get a better handle on things before he talks to David about it. For one thing, he hasn't found the right word for himself. David has lots of words for himself, whole essays tumbling around in his head, ready to go at a moment's notice. Patrick, meanwhile, thinks he's probably gay, but it doesn't sit quite right, somehow. Just trying the word on makes him want to walk up a mountain to get away from it. 

He's reading a tumblr post about bisexuality versus pansexuality (he's not sure he understands the difference, but David is very clear that he's pan, not bi, so there clearly is one, and he's determined to get to the bottom of it) when another poster adds a breakdown of demisexual versus grey-asexual, which are new terms for him. 

He doesn't notice David returning to the room until David sits on the bed and touches his knee. Patrick blinks at him wildly. 

"Honey? What?" David asks. 

"I think I'm having a revelation?" Patrick says. His voice sounds strangled. He clears his throat. 

"Okay?" 

"Demisexuality?" 

"Ohhhh," David says. "I can see that." 

Patrick exhales. Demisexuality, apparently, is when you aren't sexually attracted to people until after you emotionally connect to them. He had thought...that was normal. "I'm going to take a shower, I just need a second," Patrick says. 

David nods, echoing the movement in a small circle of his thumb on Patrick's knee. Patrick drops a kiss on his damp, product-scented forehead as he goes to take his shower. 

He's surrounded by David's scent in the steamy, homey bathroom. His brain is whirring--so it's normal for people to just see a person and want to have sex with them? He'd thought that was performative, just an act guys did--and maybe it is; it was certainly an act Patrick did around his guy friends in college, turning "that woman is lovely" into "yeah, she's so hot"--and how much of his life has been an act? Just a performance? Pretending to be a straight guy because he thinks that's how he's supposed to be? 

His head is spinning as he comes to bed. David has already arranged himself under the covers, designer pajamas covering every inch, pillows set up so that his hair stays cute through the night. This time it's Patrick's turn to curl into David's side and press his face into David's neck. 

"Are you okay?" David asks softly. He turns out the light and holds Patrick against his shoulder. 

"Yeah, I--" He doesn't know where to start. "I thought I was normal." 

"Normal doesn't exist. It's a completely fake and useless concept." 

Patrick feels the beat of David's heart through fabric, ribs, and skin. "So do you...look at people and think they're sexy? That you want to have sex with them, even if you don't know them at all? Even if they're a jerk?" 

"Yes." 

Patrick exhales. "Fuck." 

David strokes his towel-damp hair. "Patrick Brewer, are you saying you like me for my personality?" His soft tone could be a joke, or could be serious; he's leaving it up to Patrick. 

"Yes," Patrick says, too raw to joke around. 

"Oh," David whispers. He keeps stroking. Patrick's hair slowly dries. 

"What does it feel like?" Patrick asks, finally. "To see someone and just..." The words peter out again. 

"What does it feel like to be attracted to a body, not a person?" David asks. 

"Yeah." 

"I don't know," David says. "I'm not into particular bodies. I like the way people make me feel."

Patrick closes his eyes, burrowing into David's hands. "Why is this so fucking hard?" 

"Okay, first of all, stop saying fuck when we're not doing it, because it's extremely distracting," David says. Patrick snort-laughs into his side. "Second, I have no idea. I think it's a cosmic joke played on humanity."

"I thought I would have to tell my parents I'm gay. How am I supposed to say I'm homoromantic and demisexual, here's a textbook to explain it?" 

"You don't have to. You can just say...here's this nice young man I've been seeing," David says softly. 

Patrick pushes up onto his elbows. There's just enough light filtering through the curtains to see the charcoal outlines of David's chin, brow, hairline. "And what _nice_ young man would that be?" he teases. 

"Ugh!" David exclaims before Patrick kisses him. 

*

They make a quick breakfast of toast and fantastic Amish butter before walking to the store. David's hands flutter as they leave--keys, wallet, phone--and keep fluttering up to his chest, as David's face works; he's clearly thinking about something. 

Patrick offers David his arm. David takes it, the nervous energy seeping out of his hands as they close on Patrick's elbow, the uncertain look on his face steadying into a smile. That's better. 

"So I was thinking," Patrick says as they walk. 

"Hm?" 

"You like _me_ for my personality." 

"Ugh," David groans. "I like you for your hands." 

"Yeah?" 

"You have a good handshake and very clean nails. A general clean aura," David says, squeezing Patrick's forearm. "Then I thought you had a great smile and that you would be a good kisser, and it was just too bad that you were such a dick." Patrick laughs. "You were such a dick to me," David finishes. 

"Yeah," Patrick admits. "A little bit. I didn't see the full vision until after the voicemails." 

"Mm-hm. I hope you aren't such a dick to everyone." 

"Only men who walk into my workplace looking like a crow in the middle of a flock of pigeons." David wrinkles his nose at that and Patrick holds him closer. "I've never had anyone make any impression on me like you did," Patrick says. 

"Hm," David allows.

"Look, I've known punks and art majors and other people who dress in black. I didn't spend my entire life under a rock. I went to school in Edmonton, you know," Patrick says, leaning into the Alberta accent. David smiles. "You're different. The way you look is just the start."

David glances at him. "Do you still think demisexual fits?" 

"A lot of things are making sense," Patrick says. "You can be demi and gay, right?" 

"You are what you are. Words are just the signs you put up to guide other people. If you don't want to give people a map then you just say queer," David says firmly. 

"Huh." Patrick considers that. "I think I need the right words for myself, if nobody else."

David nods. "You'll get there." 

"I'm most of the way there. I know I like you, I just have to figure out why," Patrick says. He squeezes David's arm to let him know he isn't serious. David, in his turn, rolls his eyes. 

“So,” Patrick asks as they arrive at Rose Apothecary. “Why do you identify as pan rather than bi?”

“Because while I have a leather jacket, I’m not attached, and I hate puns and would rather cut off my hand than give you finger guns,” David says. 

Patrick looks at him. David looks back. “I’m going to tell you that joke again in a year and you will die laughing,” David says.

“Okay. Should I mark my calendar?”

"Definitely." 

Patrick does. Then he opens the store. 

End.


End file.
